Abran turns up the collar on his Globetrotter jacket, which is set to a flat plascrete gray color, against the slight wind and chill of the mid-morning drizzle, and breathes in the rich aroma of real coffee. It wasn't often that the department would spring for such luxuries, much less waste them on the likes of him, but he was told that this undercover assignment would come with certain perks. The real advantage, though, the long term goal would only be felt once this whole mess was behind him. Then it would be obvious that he was a loyal cop, above corruption and dedicated to his job. Or, at least, enough above corruption to be trusted; undercover work came with enough gray areas that he couldn't be the white knight boy scout either. Yes, in a lot of ways this was the perfect gig. One he'd fought hard for.
Of course, if he made a mess of it, or even worse allowed one of the others on his team to make a mess of it, this would be the final nail in the proverbial coffin. Meter maid from here on out, doing the kind of job a drone could do but that the department still kept around for cops too inept for duty, or as a punishment, but someone who they wouldn't want to let go because of what they might be able to tell a competitor.
Taking a sip, Abran studies the other two members of his team, who he recognizes from some trid stills they'd all been sent by the Lieutenant. He's happy to see Weber on the team, another untouchable like himself, though for different reasons. While Officer Tenario's loyalties have been questioned from day one on the force for the actions his father took nearly ten years ago, Officer Weber is seen as too straight-laced, too by-the-book, in truth too honest, which is more of a failing than most would like to admit in the sixth world. No doubt while the young Aztlaner is pleased to be working with the guy who was promoted to detective after his work on the Blankview case, Abran is doubtful that he'll be returning those warm and fuzzies.
The other one is an unknown. His clipped speech betrayed a German accent when he had ordered his coffee, and Abran can't recall ever seeing him around at any KE functions, not that he tended to stick around at those very long himself before he started having a little pity party about standing by himself over at the bar. He doesn't know what to think. Transfer, maybe? Or maybe this guy's Firewatch brought on board for his tactical acumen. That suit doesn't come cheap, so that makes sense.
That'd be nova. I've never worked with Firewatch before.#
Lieutenant Murphy outlines their mission, and Max gives words to Abran's concerns:
"Is there currently any rival gang on the lookout to harm the Halloweeners? Getting hired by someone else would improve our cover - not to mention would allow us to build up our funds for this operation."Exactly. Doing a bunch of good out on the streets isn't likely to win them any friends, not unless someone's pockets are going to be lined by the do-gooding.
"So, who's running this operation?" Abran asks, always one for chain of command, and because it might confirm his suspicions about Max.
"I know we're reporting to you, LT, but who's making the calls on the ground?"